


Our Bodies Are Molded Rivers

by TeaRoses



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 02:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaRoses/pseuds/TeaRoses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title taken from Novalis.</p><p>Originally written for a LiveJournal challenge:  "Harry and Ron go swimming."  Written in 2004, not compliant with later canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Bodies Are Molded Rivers

_...for water seems  
Best suited for a mortal's dreams.  
Edward A. Guest, Fishing Nooks, 1917_

The river wasn't even real, so how could Harry be in it? Yet he was, every time.

Ron had discovered the Mam Shleimes spell at the end of his seventh year. It had been a desperate time for him. The war was over, and there should have been calm, but in his mind there was the opposite. He wasn't sure what was happening with his future, with his family, with anything. His natural cheerfulness was becoming a front.

And at the back of his head was always the most distressing issue of all: that he wanted to support his best friend not only with words and smiles but with the touch of hands and lips. He told himself that Harry not only had no idea of this but didn't ever want to know, and there was no point in doing anything but forget. He had finally headed for the Restricted Section on a pass from McGonaggal and sought some sort of oblivion from magic.

Ron had never been one for research, and was never certain how he managed to stumble across a spell so obscure and so old that he wasn't even sure what language it was named in. The usual warnings about casting an illusion on the self applied. It could be addictive and deceptive. But it promised water, and peace, and that sounded right.

He didn't use Mam Shleimes right away; there wasn't enough privacy in the dormitory to be left so still and vulnerable. And while there was still Harry to talk to, however awkward it sometimes made him feel, he didn't want to escape. But over the summer he didn't see much of his best friend at all. The aftermath of the war and planning his own future left Harry too busy to contact almost anyone, and the occasional letter only left Ron more confused and lost. So he cast the spell several times at home in the Burrow.

It was always overwhelming. It was like swimming in a river, but not an ordinary idea of bathing suits and dog-paddling and water in the mouth. It was an ethereal odd place where Ron let silvery waters wash over him and thought of nothing as much as he could. The part of Ron that was much more than a happy-go-lucky Quidditch enthusiast needed something like that.

Then came the night he cast the spell and immediately knew someone else was there in his river. Wasn't that supposed to be impossible? It was his own illusion, not a Pensieve. And even a Pensieve held only one viewer at a time. But the spell would last until it faded on its own, so Ron entered the mysterious river and closed his eyes.

At first the other figure was only a presence, a knowledge, a life-force. And Ron couldn't get close to it because it didn't seem to take up even theoretical space. But after a time he knew that not only was it a real being, it was Harry Potter.

"It's my fantasy," he thought, "so of course he shows up, that's all it is." Yet it seemed more than that, but as he tried to solidify the scene and move toward Harry the spell finally faded. Ron slept badly that night, and considered never casting the spell again. But the next time had has some cherished moments of privacy he did it immediately.

This time he sought out Harry right away, and could not only feel his presence but see him, a slightly unearthly form without robes or even glasses, but with the smile and the scar and everything else he remembered. Ron was in the water and suddenly Harry was too, and they were side-by-side. Yet it still didn't seem to be a place for greeting or talking, but for tentative glances and swimming side by side through the shining water.

Ron left the spell reluctantly that time, and worried thereafter. He told himself that if he wanted to think about Harry so much perhaps he should simply allow himself to do so, without magic. But part of him was convinced that there was more to this than what was inside his own mind, and two weeks later he gave in and cast Mam Shleimes once more.

This time Harry jumped into the water to approach him and they lay still in the water, looking at each other. Speech still seemed impossible, but Ron reached out hesitantly and stroked Harry's cheek. Touch didn't work quite the same way here either, but there was still soft skin under his fingertips.

He realized too late that it was unmistakably not the action of a restrained friend, but Harry merely smiled in return. In fact he reached out his own hand and touched Ron on the shoulder.

Ron swam away for a moment. Even in this unreal world, the contact was scaring him. "This must be just a dream, because that's not what would happen. Or are the rules different here?"

He felt a hand on his back then. He turned around and looked into green eyes. Slowly he embraced Harry, feeling the muscles of his back and the gentle pressure of his chest. He struggled to maintain the sensations as the spell once again faded.

"This is dangerous," he thought to himself. "It's not what it seems, and it's only going to hurt me. That's why spells like this are hidden in the restricted section."

He slept then, wanting to swear to himself to abandon this magic but knowing that would be a lie. His dreams were of course of the river and its occupant, but were nothing like the experience of the spell. Could it possibly be that Harry himself had something to do with this?

Ron had ways to occupy his time, and tried not to dwell either on the Harry of the spell or his real absent friend. But days of chores, job applications, and magic and Quidditch with his older visiting brothers still left certain places inside him empty and he did cast the spell once more.

This time he could see Harry in the shining water immediately, and he jumped in. He pulled Harry close to him and kissed him on the lips, in a way he had never considered. His friend responded by burying his face in Ron's neck. Ron began to run his hands gently over Harry's form. This was not fully believable, yet it was true contact, and true sensuality.

Harry cupped Ron's face and kissed him warmly and they lay together in the river, trying to share as much of their bodies as possible. It wasn't a matter of heat and sex, not yet, but it was fulfilling, and Ron hoped it would be enough for him to remember, perhaps forever. Because he was starting to wonder what was happening to his mind, and now really knew he could not continue this.

This time he put his wand away entirely. He didn't want to deal with this illusion any further. He might never know how true the whole experience had been, and what Harry's actual self had to do with it, but he was wizard-born and should be used to such contradictions. He would concentrate on present reality. And he was successful at doing so for days, though certain thoughts he hid in his own heart.

Finally one day he apparated home late from a rare errand to Diagon Alley. His mother greeted him with a smile. "You'll never guess who's here!"

Ron stared. "Not Harry?"

"Yes, yes," Mrs. Weasley nodded. "He came by for a surprise visit but the poor boy was too tired to wait up for you. He's up in your room asleep."

"Harry!" said Ron, grinning and panicking at the same time.

"Now don't wake him, whatever you do!" scolded Mrs. Weasley. "Just sit down and eat, then go to sleep yourself. He'll be here for a few days and you'll have plenty of time to catch up."

Ron nodded. He would need time anyway, to separate what they had possibly shared in the Mam Shleimes spell from what they were to each other in life. He sat and ate, then hesitantly went to his room.

Harry lay in the spare bed and Ron stared at him for a moment, seeing the way his dark hair fell into his closed eyes and his body under the bedclothes. Had his hands touched that body? Clearly not... there was no point thinking about it.

Suddenly Ron felt profoundly sad. "I've lost something I never really had."

He moved to the cupboard where he had hidden his wand and held it, gazing at the wood. He had a sudden thought to cast the spell once again, to know the spirit lover in the water one more time before he dealt with the actual person who would always be a close friend. He turned his back toward Harry. One last time, and then he would prove to himself that he didn't prefer a lie to the truth.

He made a quick gesture with his wand hand and was about to recite the old words when he felt a pair of strong arms around him and hands grasping his. He froze in shock as a familiar voice murmured into his ear.

"Your spell brings me good dreams, Ron. But you don't need it anymore."


End file.
